


Dancing with the Rogue

by dhazellouise



Series: Time-travelling Arya [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, time-travel fix it, time-travelling Arya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhazellouise/pseuds/dhazellouise
Summary: To save the future, Arya wargs back to her ancestor, to the time before the Dance of the Dragons. She becomes Arry Stark, the daughter of Rickon Stark. In this time, Arya will do everything she can to prevent the civil war before every single dragon perish in the aftermath. In the process, she may even become friends with the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen.





	1. The Rogue Assassin and the Rogue Prince

**Author's Note:**

> In case you didn't know yet, this will be my third story in regards to Arya traveling to the past. Like my other time-travelling-Arya-story, Bran Stark help Arya in warging into an infant in the past, where she would then grow to become someone else's daughter. It's a mind transfer technique but using Bran's greenseer abilities to bring Arya to the past.

* * *

 

"What's your name girl?"

Arya looked up from the morsel of meat she was chewing and met the eyes of the man who was sitting opposite her. She answered him with her mouth still full, "Nettles," and resumed eating without a care about the man's opinion of her.

"Nettles? What kind of name is that?" The man snorted while crossing his arms in front of him.

That was Arya's new name now, for a new face she had stolen after killing its owner.

It's been three years since Arya had run away from Winterfell and a few moons turn after she had left House of Black and White. And now she was here, talking to the Commander of the City Watch, or the Lord of Flea Bottom as most people of this pisspot City would like to call the man.

"Well at least it's better than being called something flowery…because I am more of a thorn on everyone side than a wallflower, you see. And Nettles seemed to be a fitting name for me." Arya said, smiling. She could feel juices leaking from the corners of her mouth and down her chin as she talked and chewed at the same time.

Still, she did not care about her poor manners.

"You are quite right." The man agreed. He appeared amuse as he regarded her. "The name Nettles suits you best…for it's probably short for annoying."

Arya stopped chewing to scowl at the man before her.

"So Nettles why have you come to me?"

"I have some information for you, milord." She reached out and took the man's goblet of strong wine. "Something that you will like to hear." Arya said before gulping down the wine in one go.

The man allowed her to do it without objection, which surprise Arya. In fact, she had done it to garner the man's reaction, but instead of anger she saw in his violet eyes, the man appeared more amuse than ever when he asked, "Aren't you a little bit young to be drinking that?"

"I'm fifteen, you old man." She lied after she had drunk much of the wine.

The man simply shook his head and said, "I gave you food and drink and you reward me with your impertinence. Be grateful that I'm in a good mood today or I would have cut off your tongue for speaking to me thusly."

Arya glared at him instead. "Do you want to listen to what I say or not, milord?"

"Yes, I do...but I expect that you have something vital for me girl." The man said as he leaned back on his chair. "So start talking, Netty."

"It's Nettles." Arya corrected almost at once.

"I rather like to call you Netty than Nettles,  _Netty_."

Arya bristled at that, but kept her mouth shut. She only opened her mouth when she began to tell him the information he needed.

If things went as plan, Arya would soon become Daemon Targaryen's informant from then on, which she knew was an invaluable position to acquire. It would also mean that she would become the ears and eyes of the Prince of the City; a position that she knew would then earned her the man's closeness, and ultimately his trust, which was her goal.

* * *

* * *

 

**Chapter 2: Misery, the White Worm**

* * *

 

Arya did not like Mysaria, or as most called the woman,  _Misery, the White Worm_. Aside from being Prince Daemon Targaryen's lover and a dancer from Lys, Mysaria was said to be Prince Daemon's  _Mistress of Whisperers_ as well _._

Arya had kept in contact with the woman in the last moons after Prince Daemon had introduced them. And there was not a day where Arya was summoned to Mysaria's small apartments in the brothrel named  _Blue Moon_ for some secrets.

Whether the pale woman was testing her or not, Arya could not be sure, for Mysaria always found a way to ask Arya for new information every day and Arya provided the woman everything she heard and knew. She never failed to deliver vital and useful information to the Mistress of Whisperer, which proved to the woman that Arya was a good spy and a great informant like Prince Daemon had expected of her.

Arya had no trouble gathering information. It was a simple and easy process for she had the means to do it in secret or hide in plain sight using different faces each day, which she learned in her years as a member of the Faceless Men.

Still,  _the_   _White Worm_  was always trying to find fault in Arya's work despite her efforts. For whatever reason, the woman seemed to dislike her in return and constantly called Arya as, "Daemon's stray cat."

Arya knew the reason the woman referred to her as such. She recalled the moment when she was introduced to Mysaria for the first time.

"Where did you pick this one up this time Daemon?" the woman had asked Daemon Targaryen when she had seen Arya standing next to the Rogue Prince. "Some pleasure house near the docks?"

"I didn't pick her up. She picked me up…" The Prince had drawled to his lover. "And she's no whore. The girl is just a child."

"Why did you bring her to me then, Daemon? If not to let her work here in the Blue Moon?"

"Because I have something else in mind for her. I believe she may become of use to us, Mysa. I was at a tavern near the Street of Flour when she came to me with some vital information in exchange for some food, and I had to indulge the little cat."

"You surprise me, my love." Mysaria had replied, "It is so unlike you to indulge this child so easily just because she had some information for you. You should have driven her off and left her to starve. Now, she'll just be like those stray cats in the street. If you feed them once, they'll just come back for more. You won't be able to shake this one off, Daemon."

The woman had said while she had eyed Arya from head to toe, probably gauging her worth. For her part, Arya had neither flinched nor cower away from the woman's cold stare. Instead Arya had stared right back in challenge, but had kept silent, mainly because Arya hadn't wanted for the Prince to throw her back out in the streets when she had just wormed her way into his good graces.

"I don't intend to shake her off, Mysa." Prince Daemon had replied. "For I intend to keep her because this girl could possibly be a good source of information for us from now on. She gave me something that is worth than a hundred golden dragon, yet she only asked for food and drink and perhaps a place to stay, if you will allow it."

"And what was the information she gave you?"

"Something that I should have expected for a long time." Prince Daemon had said in a serious tone. "I know Otto Hightower did not want me to become my brother's heir and my suspicions prove true when Netty here was able to retrieve some evidence that the lickspittle Hightower intend to propose the idea to my brother of making Rhaenyra as the heir."

"And how can you be sure that this information is true?" Mysaria had asked doubtfully.

"Because the girl was able to provide me with a written proof." Prince Daemon had said, pulling the letter from his pocket. "She was able to intercept this letter and bring it to me. A letter with Otto Hightower's handwriting and seal."

"But it might be forge for all we know, Daemon." the woman had replied, still unconvinced.

"No, it's not Mysa. I know Hightower's handwriting, and this is surely his. Look at the letter." The Prince had answered adamantly, presenting the letter to the woman.

Even after seeing the letter, the woman had remained doubtful, which in turn would have casted doubt on Arya's credibility, but she had been grateful when the Rogue Prince had chosen to believe her instead of the woman.

This must be the reason that Mysaria disliked her so much.

 _No matter. The woman will be dead soon._  Arya thought as she went through her plans of disposing the other woman.  _Soon enough an unfortunate accident will befall the White Worm, and the Lord of Flea Bottom will have no other choice but to rely on someone else to become his Mistress of Whisperers, if he plans to keep his position as the Prince of this City for many more years._

 

 


	2. Killing Misery

.

Killing Mysaria the White Worm was easy. Arya smirked as she recalled how simple it had been to use the face of a man that she had killed and pretended to rob the woman while Mysaria had been in her rooms in the Blue Moon. Mysaria had guards, true, but they were mostly stationed at the door and not the window; a place easily accessible to Arya who could climb rooftops whenever she wished it. Of course, Arya had to steal some personal affects to make it look like Mysaria had been killed by a thief, and stole the woman's letters Mysaria received from her informants as well.

The woman had been fast asleep when Arya had quietly broken into her window, where she had then hastily wrapped a cord around the woman's neck before Mysaria could scream.

It would have been easy to simply slit her throat and be done with it, but Arya hadn't wanted the blood to seep through her clothes and leave a blood trail in her wake. So she had chosen to strangle Misery instead.

Poison would have been easy too, but Arya had wanted to see the woman die miserably by her hand, to see the life drained out of the woman like Arya had seen in the other people she had killed.

Because seeing a person dying was sublime, as any killer would think.

Certainly, the woman had struggled against her when she had strangled Misery to death. And as proof of that, Mysaria had left marks on Arya's forearms.

Arya didn't want Daemon Targaryen questioning her if he noticed the angry scratches on her arms. Hence, she had carefully hidden the marks beneath her long tunic shirts. And if the Rogue Prince started wondering about her change of attire, he did not show it every time they meet, which had become often after Mysaria's death.

Now, that Arya had killed the deplorable woman, it was only a matter of time before Daemon Targaryen would make use of Arya's skills for gathering information and appoint her as his Mistress of Whisperer. Nonetheless, for that to happen, Arya had to prove herself worthy of the position.

.

"I'm sorry for what happened to Misery." Arya said solemnly to the Rogue Prince when he had asked her that they meet in the upper rooms in the Blue Moon. "I'm sure you will be able to catch the man who killed her soon."

"I can't be certain of that, Netty." Daemon Targaryen replied, running a hand through his silver hair and sighing loudly. "It seems to me that he has disappeared without a trace. A ghost they say, for no one can exactly identify who killed Mysaria."

The man looked ragged, as could be expected after days without sleep while he searched for his lover's killer.

Arya allowed herself to feel a tinge of guilt as she noted the dark circles beneath the Prince's eyes. She felt a sense of pity for the Lord of Flea Bottom for having lost his lover. But only for a moment. For she certainly did not feel sorrowful that Mysaria was dead.

"I am still quite in a bit of shock to see this happen in my own City, and to Mysaria, no less." The Prince admitted, "It makes me wonder if Otto Hightower has something to do with this, or even my brother...the King."

"They don't." came Arya's hasty answer, too hastily if the Rogue Prince's frown was to judge.

To remedy her error, Arya said at once, "I'm certain that Otto Hightower or your brother has nothing to do with Mysaria's murder, for I have proof on the matter."

"What have you discovered, Netty?" Daemon Targaryen asked as he sat up straight on his seat. "What information have you got for me?"

"Mysaria has many rivals, as you well know, my Lord." Arya began, meeting the Prince's dark purple eyes. "Rivals who wanted her dead as much as the next man Mysaria had coerced and extorted. And one of them has certain connections with some thieves of this City. From there, I was able to discover that the person who killed Mysaria was hired by a woman named Eleanor Decarte."

The woman Arya mentioned was indeed Mysaria's rival; a prostitute and dancer from one of the most famous brothel in King's Landing - the Red Lagoon.

To her credit, Arya did not feel mildly remorseful for allowing the blame to fall into someone else. In fact, she was looking forward to what the  _Prince of the City_ would do to the Eleanor Decarte who was notorious for her cruelty towards new-hired prostitutes in the Red Lagoon. Perhaps Arya's action would serve as a just punishment for the woman.

"And how were you able to gather this information, Netty?" the Lord of Flea Bottom asked, raising a brow as he regarded her.

"I have my own sources, as you have, my Lord." Arya said evasively, shrugging her shoulders. "Though not as vast as yours and Mysaria, but I make do with what I have, if not more effectively."

After having said that, Arya noted the twitch on Daemon Targaryen's lips as if the Prince resisted the urge to smile at her.

"You surprised me yet again, Netty," came the Prince's long and low drawl. His dark purple eyes gleaming merrily. "If you have such useful  _birds_ , mayhap I will be able to use them for my own."

"Of course, my lord." Arya responded in a cool tone. "If you have need of them, you had only asks, and they shall assist you in whatever information you may need."

Arya knew right then that this was only the beginning of her climb to becoming the Mistress of Whisperer.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone hacked into my account and deleted most of my stories in AO3. Thankfully, I saved the stories in my external hard drive so I am able to repost the stories again here.


End file.
